


Doubutsu no Ronpa

by falconinthedive



Category: Dangan Ronpa, どうぶつの森 | Animal Crossing Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2014-04-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 23:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1037608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falconinthedive/pseuds/falconinthedive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So a secretary, a seamstress, a shoe seller, and several others are locked inside a building...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Here it is. One of those crossovers that exists for no reason beyond seeing if I can make it work. I will attempt to update on a weekly basis, with a break in between each segment (that is, after each trial), and if I do not live up to this you are allowed to say bad things about me.
> 
> Additionally, readers are allowed to have some input over what goes into the story. People are allowed to send in two characters that they want to spend time with before each (Ab)normal Days segment (that is, after every chapter that doesn't end in a body or a trial).
> 
> With that in mind, enjoy!

I wasn’t ever considered extraordinary. I’ve been told that I stick out in a crowd, yes, but my days were spent hanging around my hometown and giving my friends sage advice and fashion tips. I didn’t really have a job (not that that was a problem), and I didn’t have any kind of talent or hobby that people thought was too noteworthy.

So looking back, my confusion as I stepped into the ballroom where the others were mingling was completely understandable.

I had woken up a few minutes before in a bedroom with a set of directions taped to the wall. I was worried, yes, but concern should be put aside for reason, shouldn’t it? If I was kidnapped, it stood to reason that any potential danger I was in would have already passed.

Besides, I was allowed a little bit of curiosity, was I not?

In retrospect I probably should have been more worried.

“Oh!” cried a red-vested cat as soon as I walked in. “I think she’s the last one!”

“What?”

As it turned out, the directions had led me to a somewhat formally-designed ballroom, which was currently occupied by a number of other people.

“Everyone else has been here for a few minutes,” replied the cat. “If you woke up in a bedroom with your name on the door then you’re in the same situation as the rest of us.”

Admittedly, I didn’t bother to check the doors, but it didn’t sound too out of place.

“…And none of us know what we’re doing here?”

“Nope, not a one.”

_Fantastic._

“Well, each of us got a card with a title on it. I’m guessing that yours is the one on the table over there. But before you start, why don’t you get to know the rest of us a bit?”

Looking around the room, I counted fourteen people, including both myself and the increasingly annoying cat. And I was going to have to talk to all of them before I actually got to see why I was here.

“And I suppose I’m as a good a place to start as any!”

_Great._

“…Well?”

“I’m Rover! According to the card, I’m a Guide. Fitting, huh?”

As he started laughing at his own joke, I finally got a good chance to size him up.

…Yeah, he was just as annoying as I had initially guessed. Looking to get away from him as quickly as possible, I walked over to the raccoon and poodle standing nearby at one of the tables.

“Let’s get this overwith,” I said, addressing the raccoon. “You are…?”

“My name is Tom Nook, Businessman. I trust that we will get along splendidly, yes?”

“…Sure. And you?”

“The name’s Harriet, sugar. Stylist. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m more concerned with where we are than ‘getting to know each other’.”

_Can’t argue with that._

Satisfied by the fact that at least one person here had their priorities straight, I headed over to the next table, which was currently occupied by a girl that was occupied taking notes.

And proceeded to continue to take notes while I stood there.

“Er… hello? Were you going to acknowledge my existence?”

“…Sorry,” she muttered, putting the notepad away. “My name is Katie! The card says I’m a Traveler!”

As she beamed at me, I began to wonder what kind of direction these titles were taking. The others had seemed like professions, but how can someone be good at traveling?

The kid didn’t look like she could be any older than sixteen, anyway.

Admittedly the dog standing next to her was a bit more of a surprise.

“I’m K. K. Slider,” he said, gently holding out a paw for me to shake. “Musician.”

Now this was a guy I had heard of. K. K. Slider was practically the musical icon of the country; pretty much everyone had a bootleg of one of his songs.

_So what’s a celebrity like him doing here?_

Next up, the owl and skunk duo standing by one of the walls.

“Hey.”

“Hmm? Hmmmm… HOOOOOT!”

_How the hell was she sleeping upright?_

“Oh, I’m sorry… I’m not used to being awake this early…”

According to the clock on the wall behind her it was mid-afternoon. I will never understand owls.

“Anyway, my name’s Celeste. I’m an Astronomer.”

“The name’s Kicks,” said the skunk standing next to her. “Cobbler, apparently.”

_Cobbler… So he makes shoes?_

“I’m going to guess that neither of you know what’s going on, either?”

“Not a clue. Woke up here same as you, ma’am.”

Celeste had already fallen asleep again. Like I said, I will never understand owls.

They seemed nice enough. This was more than I can say about the vibe that I was getting from the dog in a police uniform directly behind me.

“And you are…?”

“Copper, at your service, ma’am!”

“Let me guess. You’re an Officer.”

“Excellent guess, ma’am!”

Looking at him I could already tell that there would be nothing of worth arising from continuing to talk.

Moving down the line there was a hedgehog that looked on the edge of hyperventilating coupled with two alpacas, looking increasingly concerned and increasingly bored, respectively.

“So what’s your deal?”

She stared at me in awkward silence for a few seconds before handing me a card.

‘Sable Able, Seamstress’

_Seems kinda… quiet._

Her name seemed familiar, at any rate. Was she mentioned in Mrs. Nintendique or the Gracie catalogues at some point?

“I haven’t been able to get her to say a word, the poor dear,” commented one of the alpacas standing next to her. “I’m Reese, by the way. The Saleswoman, according to my card.”

As long as someone was looking after the walking nervous breakdown, I wasn’t going to complain. Besides, this was a nice change after the obnoxious peppiness or confrontational nature of… everyone else.

As for the other one…

“And you are…?”

“Cyrus. Carpenter.”

He then proceeded to leer at me until I went across the room to speak to the two remaining dogs.

“Hi! I’m Isabelle! I’m a Secretary! And this is my twin brother, Dig-”

“I can introduce myself perfectly fine, Isabelle,” the other one retorted. “As she was saying, I’m Digby. I appear to have received the title of Designer, myself.”

_Twins, huh._

They certainly seemed close. But while Isabelle was busy grinning like an idiot, Digby seemed to be looking for a position between ‘polite’ and ‘incredibly concerned’.

Finally, a quick head count revealed that I had spoken to everyone in the room

On the table, a single envelope, my name written on it in fancy cursive. I opened the envelope and…

“What gives? There’s nothing on here!”

Sure enough, the card was blank.

“That’s funny,” commented Isabelle. “Are you sure that it’s not a typo or something?”

“Can’t be,” argued Rover. “It was in the envelope. But I’m sure that Miss… What was it?”

“Well, since you seem to be so interested, my name is Whitney, and I just so happen to be blessed with the title of Nothing.”

“Well, now that we’ve got the introductions out of the way, we have a bigger problem on our hands,” stated Harriet, moving to the middle of the room. “None of us have any idea how we got here, correct?”

“Exactly,” conceded Digby. “We all seem to have no recollection of how exactly we got here, or where here is, for that matter.”

“Slow down, plebeians. One question at a time.”

Everyone jumped and started to search for the source of the voice. None of us had said that, had we?

“The intercom, morons.”

That explained it. In our confusion none of us had noticed the intercom nor the security cameras on the ceiling.

_Wait… security cameras?_

“If you want to know where you are, I took an old mansion I found and… repurposed it. Let’s call it University for the time being. You, on the other hand, should be calling it your future home.”

Silence.

“Future home…?” repeated Kicks. “You mean you’re locking us in here?”

“Exactly. You don’t get to leave, save for two circumstances.”

 “Then go ahead,” replied Digby, staring at nothing. “What do you want us to do?”

“It’s simple. Kill or be killed.”

Everyone started to mutter. Unable to leave? Kill or be killed? What the hell was this person talking about?

“It’s called Graduation. Just take the life of one of your colleagues and you get to walk out.”

“Why, though?” asked Celeste, her voice wavering. “There’s no way that you need to-”

“Of course I don’t _need_ to, idiot. I’m doing this because I _want_ to.”

The murmuring started up again. What possible motivation could justify forced murder?

“All of you are defined by your actions.  Your lives revolve around being the best in your field, and once you’ve reached that achievement, you do nothing more than attempt to improve on that. This mentality… interests me.”

“Heheh… I wonder which of you will crack first. Sable, you know your past is waiting for you. Are you willing to go ahead and reach it?”

Sable tensed and looked like she was about to cry.

“Or Copper. Clearly if people were going to going to come to your rescue, they would have done so. You’ll have to take matters into your own hands if you want to keep order, you know.”

Copper said nothing, but glared at the security camera in the corner.

“And how about you, Whitney? You know you’re the outsider. You’re the only one that’s not special.”

_Why am I being singled out?_

Well, if this mastermind was looking for a frightened reaction from me, they weren’t getting one.

“Seriously? That’s no reason for murder. I don’t think any of this is. It’s ridiculous, and if any of us are going to go to those lengths getting locked in a building is probably the least of their problems.”

“Ooh, the dog bites back.”

_I’m a wolf._

“Very well, I’ll leave you alone if need be, but I’m quite eager to see what you’ll choose to do.”

There was a click, and the intercom went silent.

Nobody seemed to want to say anything that would break the silence. Eventually, I stood up.

“I’ll be in my room if you need me.”

And with that, I walked out, to check what would be my room for who knows how long.

14 PLAYERS REMAIN


	2. (Ab)Normal Days Part 1

I spent a few hours examining my room. After all, none of these people seemed to be particularly helpful, so why should I bother?

The bedroom was just as overtly fancy as the ballroom had been; queen sized bed, white dresser and all. My clothes were already placed in the drawers, but I couldn't find any of my other belongings.

After about an hour or so of this, I was interrupted from my thoughts by a knock on the door. I fiddled with the lock a bit and opened the door to find Kicks standing right outside of my room.

"The rest of us were checking out the rest of the mansion," he explained. "Digby wanted us to meet up and talk about what we found."

So, Digby was the one taking charge, then? Not that I was complaining.

"Well, if we're all here, we may as well figure out what we've found."

"There's not really much to say about the rooms," I commented. "I found clothes in there but there's not really anything else."

"I think the rooms may be soundproof as well," said Kicks. "K.K. and I tried to contact each other between the rooms and couldn't hear a thing."

"Anyone else have anything to report?"

"The stairways are blocked," muttered Cyrus. "Couldn't get through the bars."

"The windows and doors are similarly barricaded," confirmed Copper.

"So we really are locked in…" said Katie.

"And we're only limited to this floor," mentioned Harriet. "Our captor's base is probably up there, so to speak."

"Did anyone else find anything?" I asked.

"We have a laundry room," mentioned Reese. "So at least we have something."

"I checked out the kitchen!" said Isabelle. "Nothing but a fully stocked fridge and a ton of knifes!"

"A lot of knifes, huh."

"Yeah."

"…Shouldn't we do something about that?"

Digby sighed.

"I'm afraid we may have to work on the honors system for now. The knifes may be of use when it comes to cooking, and besides, there's no guarantee that any of us will actually attempt murder."

There was that subject again. Murder. Our only ticket out of here, apparently. But nobody here would be depraved enough to actually commit it, right?

Given that, we went to our separate rooms in silence.

* * *

Nobody was in the main hallway when I woke up the next day. I ended up loitering around there for a bit before grabbing something to eat from the kitchens in silence.

Well, if nobody was going to see me, I was going to have to come to them then, wasn't I?

* * *

I found Harriet near one of the windows in the hallway, presumably looking for a weakness in the metal covering.

"I can't find anything. It looks like we really are trapped, sugar."

_She seems pretty perturbed. Should I try talking to her?_

"I was going to get lunch. Want to join me?"

"It would be nice to think about something other than escaping for awhile."

We spent some time talking together. I guess we got a little closer.

"It's funny how you came to me, actually. I was just about to look for you myself."

"Huh."

"I noticed that you seemed a little upset back when this mess started, so I figured this would cheer you up."

Grinning madly and obviously quite proud of herself, she shoved a slip of paper in my hand.

"Well, go on. Open it!"

I looked down at the paper in my palm. It was obviously the same one that was in the envelope in the ballroom.

But where the paper had been blank, she had scribbled "Socialite".

"…Well, what do you know."

"What can I say? I'm good at reading people. Comes with the job."

"I thought you were a hairstylist. What does that have to do with reading people?"

"It does. I run a salon in the city. Shampoodle? Maybe you've heard of it."

"Sorry. I'm from Animal Forest, myself, so I don't hear much about those areas."

"No worries. Well, my technique is based around the idea that people should look as beautiful on the outside as they do on the inside."

"…I don't follow."

"It's pretty simple, actually. I ask customers a few questions about themselves, and base the cut and style around their answers!"

_Talk about unorthodox…_

"It's been quite successful, actually. My work's been quite the talk of the town, if you don't mind my bragging."

"Well, I've been working on this new machine of mine that can do all the styling itself."

"Like a robot?"

"Sort of. It still needs my input. Trust me, it'll revolutionize the industry!"

I still had no idea what she was talking about, but at least she was enthusiastic about it.

"Well, I should get back on track. It was nice talking to you, though!"

_I guess that was informative…_

* * *

Reese turned out to be in the kitchen, holding a large coffee pot.

"I found a coffee machine hidden in the cabinet. Want some?"

_Do I really want to spend time with Reese? This'll take awhile…_

"…Why not?"

I discussed some of the other residents with Reese over coffee. I guess we got a little closer.

"I'll be honest…" she commented.

"What?"

"I never thought that I would be put in a situation like this… With so many great people…"

"Well, you're the Saleswoman, apparently. Have you been at that long?"

"I went to business school, at the very least."

"Then shouldn't you be here as the Businesswoman?"

"Well, it's funny where vegetables will get you."

"Don't be coy."

"Humor me. What vegetable business have I gotten myself into?"

_I was never really interested in this stuff… What was it again?_

"…Tomato?"

"That's a fruit."

_Ugh… Guess I got it wrong…_

"…Parsnips?"

"Points for trying, but no."

… _I guess I was wrong then…_

"…Turnips?"

"That's right. I got caught up in the stalk market. I met one of the main sellers and she helped me get started off."

"…But you're not the Stalkbroker, either."

"…I didn't want to make that my life. Giving back… it's important to me."

"I don't follow."

"I actually work at a retail store and work with the stalk market as a side business."

"I still don't see how that's giving back."

"It's non-profit. Everything that gets sold goes to the original owner."

She smiled.

"I think it's my duty, in a way. It helps people get out of hard times."

She got up and went for the exit of the ballroom.

"Think about it."

_She's nice enough, even if I don't understand her business model…_

* * *

The next day, I found myself in the ballroom again surrounded by everyone else.

"I don't get it," muttered Digby. "I've examined all the possible routes. Nobody has any connection whatsoever. No similar hometowns, no previously existing relationships besides Isabelle and myself, nothing!"

"Perhaps it's random," suggested Rover. "Doesn't that form the idea of chaos?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" asked Celeste.

"Panic. If violence is what this person wants, then confusion is the best way to do so."

"That does make sense, yes…" commented Tom.

"Still doesn't tell us why," spat Cyrus.

"I think it's the panic idea again. They made it sound like an experiment before, so they're obviously waiting for a reaction," commented Harriet.

"So we shouldn't do anything," I said. "We don't give them what they want, and the police have to come for us eventually, right?"

In the back of the room Copper clearly swelled with pride.

"But still," said Digby. "We can't get out."

"So what should we do?" questioned Katie.

He paused, taking some time to examine the faces of everyone present in the room.

"We'll just have to live," he said. "Make a life here for the time being and hope that nobody is desperate enough to try to escape."

14 INDIVIDUALS REMAIN


	3. (Ab)Normal Days Part 2

My attempts to escape back to my room were foiled by Kicks, who cornered me before I could get back to the hallway.

"…Did you want something?"

"I was hoping to spend some time  _alone._ But I guess you can come along, if you absolutely need to."

We walked through the halls together for a bit, before stopping in front of the laundry room.

"Here," he said, handing me something. "I figured you'd enjoy this."

"Er… thanks, I guess."

It was a net, but the meshing was so loose that it would have been useless if I tried to use it. I quickly made a mental note to throw it out as soon as possible.

"Seriously, was there something that you wanted from me?"

"I dunno. Discussion, maybe."

_Well, that didn't sound forced at all._

"Discussion?"

"Sure. I mean, if we're locked up in here we may as well get to know each other a little!"

"…Is there really anything to find out?"

"What?"

"Like the card said, there is no reason for me to be here. My life in unmistakably average in every way, shape, and form. Compared to all of you, I have nothing that makes me stand out."

"I don't think that's true. You seem like a nice enough girl."

"Well, thank you, but you're wrong. And right now, all I want is to spend some time dictated on my own terms. Alright?"

"Well, if you didn't want to talk, you could just say s-"

I smacked him with the net. At least it was good for something. I changed my mind; this was going straight to my room.

"Look, if you need me, I'll be with literally anybody else."

* * *

Rover was literally right around the corner when I found him.

"Well, if it isn't our resident lone wolf! And how are you doing this afternoon?"

"You know. I've been around. Awful pun, by the way. What about you?"

"I was about to take a walk, myself. You're welcome to join me if you want."

I walked through the halls with Rover for a bit. I guess we got a little closer.

"So what does a Guide do, exactly? It's sort of an odd title. Are you a tour guide or something?"

He looked at me with that annoying mischievous sparkle in his eye.

"Sadly, no. I ride the rails, as it were."

"…So you're a hobo."

That elicited a laugh.

"No, that's not it. I just have a passion for seeing others get started."

"Hm?"

"If you stay on the trains, you get to see a lot of people heading off to get their start in the world. Moving out, heading to new frontiers, things like that."

"So? A lot of people are like that."

"Yes, but, I just think it's so inspiring. And I try to help out, of course. I know these things aren't easy."

"That sounds kinda creepy to be honest."

"Heh, not really! Do you think I'm creepy, Whitney?"

_No comment._

"Really, I just say hello, ask them about where they're going, give them a map if they don't have one already. Things like that."

"And you make a living off of this?"

"I wish. No, this is just a hobby of mine. But hey, if it got me in here with you guys I have to be good at it, right?"

As he grinned at me again, we passed his room.

"Well, this is my stop so to speak. But hey, let's do this again sometime!"

_That was surprisingly deep…_

* * *

I found K.K. in the kitchen.

"Mind if I listen in for a bit?"

"If you want."

I listened to K.K. work out pitches with some objects in the kitchen. I guess we got a little closer.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you, by the way. I just thought it would be interesting to take a look at the creative process."

He stopped for a second.

"You know what I play, don't you?"

_Ugh… His songs are so varied that I completely forgot! I know he doesn't play the flute, and I would know if he played the violin, so…_

"You play guitar, don't you?"

"You got it, chica."

"Well, you're quite good at it."

"…Thanks. I've been working with it for some time."

_I guess he's not used to being up close with fans._

"If you don't mind my asking, why do you do it?"

"What's that?"

"Why do you play? I've heard a lot of stories about how musicians have a reason for their work."

"Why I play…?"

"Oh! I'm sorry if I'm prying! I was just-"

"Nah, it's fine."

An awkward silence passed over us while he appeared to work out the words to what he was going to say next.

"You know how everyone here appears to have a role?"

"I guess."

"Exactly. I believe that everyone has a sort of duty, even if it's not labeled. Making music… That's my role. I try to inspire others through my own work."

"…I don't get it."

He stood up.

"You'll see, Whitney."

With that, he smiled and left the room.

_He's just as much of an enigma as he appears to be…_

* * *

"Hey, Whitney!"

_Oh, please. I just want to get to my room and be alone._

Once again, my attempts to spend the rest of the day in peace and solitude were foiled, this time by Isabelle and Digby, who approached me as I was unlocking the door to my room.

"What?"

It was Digby that spoke up in response.

"Sorry to bother you, Whitney, but I noticed that your demeanor towards everyone else has been somewhat…"

"…Somewhat… what?"

"…Confrontational, perhaps? I'm not going to tell you to try and change how you but, but it does mean that it could make you a target should anyone attempt to take up our captor's offer."

Silence.

"Was there a point to this, or…?"

"We wanted to tell you to be careful, of course!" cried Isabelle. "Just because you don't care about us doesn't mean we don't care about you!"

"How touching."

"Just keep an eye out, okay?" asked Digby. "I'm sure we'll get through this."

"Sure thing."

_I have a short temper and something to bludgeon others with. I'm sure I'll be fine._

* * *

Later that night, I sat in my room, pondering. It had been three days now, and we were still no closer to finding answers.

_Are we really going to be in here forever?_

It didn't seem like such an odd question. Surely someone would have come by now if it was possible. But at the same time, forever seemed a little unrealistic. And unless someone was willing to try and escape, then it didn't look like we were going to make any progress.

And if whoever had trapped us in here was to be believed, the only way out of here was through murder.

My thoughts were quickly disrupted by someone knocking on my door. Grabbing the net in case of attack, I sidled closer to whoever was on the other side.

"It's past eleven," I called out. "Who is this?"

"It's me."

_That was helpful._

Deciding to take my chances, I unlocked the door, opened it, and got ready to club whoever it was into submission.

"Didn't your parents ever teach you to stay away from people that may be sleeping? Why are you up, anyway?"

"I'm an owl. Nocturnal, remember? And besides, your light's on, so I don't think it's likely that you were sleeping."

"…Fair enough. What do you want?"

"To talk. It'll be about eight hours before anyone else is up, then I'll be the one struggling to stay awake."

"You do know that this is the worst possible idea, right? If someone catches you at this time of night you're dead meat."

"Don't worry. I've got this."

It was at this point that she held up an axe.

"…Where did you get that?" I asked, backing up as far as I could and holding the net in what I thought would be a good defensive position. Damn it, I was going to be the first to die. And all because I was an idiot and opened the door.

"Kicks gave it to me," she replied in a manner that was way too nonchalant for the situation. "Besides, it's rubber. It's rubbish, but I figured that at least it would make people think twice."

"…What is with that guy?"

"Beats me."

"…Anyway, I don't think a fake axe is going to help. Why don't you try adjusting your sleep schedule or something?"

"It's not that easy. It's a nature thing."

"I don't follow."

"Like I've told you, I'm nocturnal. Nothing I do is going to change that. But I figured that if I could at least talk to someone that it would pass the time a little."

_This is ridiculous._

"Look, I'm sorry, but I'd like to get to sleep. You should get back to your room before someone starts getting ideas."

"…Sure. It was worth a shot. Just… remember I'm there, alright?"

I watched her as she headed down the hall back to her own room. Sure, I felt sorry for her, but there wasn't really much I could do.

_Poor girl… She's going to be all alone, then she'll probably be first to die._

* * *

"Well, someone's up early."

"Ugh, don't remind me," grumbled Cyrus. "Figured I may as well see when other people head out so I know when to join them."

"Come on," I replied. "There's safety in numbers, right?"

"…Why not?"

"Well, you seem slightly less paranoid today. Any real reason for that?"

"Eh. I figured I may as well take my chances, ya know?"

"I suppose."

"I mean, if someone tried to get out they'd have done it already, right?"

"But I don't think that-"

"A BODY HAS BEEN FOUND. I REPEAT, A BODY HAS BEEN FOUND."

This was not good. We bolted down the hall over to the ballroom.

Isabelle, Sable, and Rover were already in the doorway, staring in shock at whatever was going on in there.

"She isn't-"

But even after all of that, I still wasn't prepared for the sight that awaited me.

Digby's corpse, left laying out on one of the tables.

13 VICTIMS REMAIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wholeheartedly apologize for the state of the victim picture. The later artwork is better, I swear.


	4. Chapter 4

The alarm continued to blare as everyone else started to pile into the doorway.

Nobody said anything. It didn't seem right to break the silence.

Hell, I had spoken to him less than twelve hours ago.

"Oh my God," muttered Cyrus. "Somebody did it. Somebody actually did it."

"It would appear so," agreed Rover.

Suddenly, Isabelle burst into tears.

"Will someone please get her to shut up?" cried Katie. "We have to figure out who did this, don't we?"

"Her brother just died," pleaded Reese.

"She has a point, though."

Ah. Yes. That damn intercom.

"So it finally happened. The dog was killed by one of you. Somebody in that room of yours is a murderer."

Silence hung in the air.

"I didn't even have to introduce a motive! Ah, whoever did this is really the lowest of the low…"

"Then why are we still here?" asked Cyrus. "Shouldn't they have gone by now?"

"Don't be stupid. We have to have a trial first."

"Whaddaya mean?"

"Did I not mention it before? After someone is killed, a trial will be held. If you vote for the actual culprit, they shall be executed."

This revelation was met with silence as we considered what this new information indicated.

"Then they go free."

Again, silence.

"And everyone else is executed in their stead."

That got a response.

"E-EXECUTED?" repeated Cyrus, backing up in disbelief.

Sable looked like she was about to cry.

"There  _was_  a reason that you had to keep your deeds a secret, after all. Besides, what's the use of a trial without a little danger?"

Nobody had a response to that. It just seemed too unreal.

"Don't forget, you have a few hours. Make it count."

There was a click, and dead air filled the room once again.

"Copper, Cyrus… I don't suppose you'd be willing to guard the scene, would you?"

"I'll take Isabelle over to my room," commented Reese.

"I'll take a look at the body," said Celeste. "I don't know too much about anatomy or medicine, but… I'll try."

"I'm going to interview people in the kitchen," added Harriet. "I'll be able to figure thing out that way. Whitney, you're up first."

After a few minutes of intense grilling from Harriet, I found myself back in the ballroom, looking at the scene in question.

It wasn't a pretty sight. The back of his head had been bashed in, and the already filthy tablecloth was stained with blood near where he lay.

"I think it's blunt force trauma…" muttered Celeste. "At least it was over quickly."

"Did you find a weapon?"

"There wasn't anything that I could find, but it could have been anything."

"It's heinous," said Copper.

"Whitney."

I turned around. Kicks was standing in the kitchen doorway, staring intently at me.

"I want to talk to Isabelle about this. She may know something about it."

"Sounds reasonable. Why do you want me for this?"

"More sets of eyes, right?" he smirked. "It's our lives on the line."

* * *

As promised, Isabelle turned out to be in Reese's room.

Reese, however, was less than pleased with Kicks' plan of discussing the murder with Isabelle.

"I'm not sure that that would be the best idea…" she frowned. "She's nearly in hysterics over what happened."

"No…" Isabelle sniffled. "I- I'm okay. If it'll help…"

She clearly wasn't okay. Her eyes were still brimming with tears and she kept on staring off into space. I would have to choose my words carefully.

"Isabelle," I said, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. "Do you have any idea what may have caused Digby's death?"

That was the wrong choice.

"I-It's all my fault!" she sobbed. "I-I asked if I could spend the night in his room a-and now he's dead!"

"Wait… You spent the night in his room?"

"Yes…"

"Why?"

"I-I started getting these letters… They scared me…"

"Where are they?"

"In my room… B-but I left the key in his room…"

"He was in the room when I fell asleep… I don't know what happened…"

And with that, she burst into tears again.

"You should probably go," suggested Reese. "I'll make sure that she's alright."

_If you're sure that you know what you're doing…_

After a few brief parting words, Kicks and I found ourselves out in the hallway again.

"Whitney," whispered Kicks. "I found something in there."

"So you're a kleptomaniac now?" I replied. "Put that back."

"I'm serious. I think I may have just found our weapon."

He pulled a meat-tenderizing mallet out of his pocket, one end stained with blood.

"It was hidden under one of the stacks of papers in her room."

"You don't think that she…?"

"I don't know. But I think it's safe to say that this is what killed Digby."

"…We should check out Isabelle's room, at any rate."

* * *

Isabelle's room was, to be frank, a mess. Laundry was piled everywhere, and papers littered the floor.

"Looks like she was in a bit of a rush to get out…" muttered Kicks.

I picked up a paper, presumably one of the letters that Isabelle had mentioned.

"'Watch your back.' Could these be any more clichéd?"

"It's Isabelle," he responded. "Whoever wrote these probably figured it wouldn't take much."

"I suppose not."

The laundry itself didn't hold any clues. Clean clothes were thrown everywhere, but the real focus of our attention was what turned out to be under them.

"…Is that a key?"

"Looks like it to me," I replied. "Odd how it ended up here on the floor."

"Do you think that it-"

Our musings were interrupted by a knock on the door.

_Strange, I didn't think anyone would know that we were here…_

It was Sable. I thought she would have locked herself in her room for the rest of the day, but evidently not.

"Reese told me you were probably here…" she explained, clearly straining to keep calm. "I think you should know. I saw Digby last night."

"You did?"

"He…" she straightened up a little. "He told me that Isabelle had torn her headband. I spent the night fixing it."

"When was this?" asked Kicks, his voice remaining level.

"Around ten thirty, I think?"

"You didn't see anything else? He didn't say anything?"

"No… I would have said something if that was the case…"

"But we know when he was last seen…" mused Kicks. "That's something, at least."

The rest of the investigation was uneventful. The room did not, in fact, appear to hold any evidence related to the murder.

"Ahem… Attention, everybody. The investigation period is over and the trial will now commence."

_Already?_

"The elevator to the trial room is near the stairs. You'll notice I was kind enough to remove the bars."

* * *

My first concern after the announcement was finding Harriet. As it turned out, she happened to be with the others, who all appeared to be meeting in the hallway before following the given instructions.

"Did you have any luck?"

"Not a bit," she muttered. "Nobody wanted to say anything about it."

Everyone else seemed to have something different to say as I headed to the door.

"Are you ready, Whitney? I think we can do this."

_Stop being so gung-ho about this, Kicks._

Reese was more pensive. "To think that we have to see someone die so soon after Digby… I don't think I can take it."

"It's awful," mused Celeste. "That someone would actually do this…"

Sable simply stared down at her feet.

Similarly, K.K. kept his eyes trained on the door itself.

"So we just gotta go down there and figure out who did it, right?" asked Katie.

"Rest assured," said Copper. "The culprit  _will not_ be getting away with their crimes."

Tom and Rover kept their thoughts to themselves.

"It's not right," muttered Cyrus. "It's just not right."

Isabelle simply whimpered.

True to our host's word, the bars surrounding the stairs were gone, and the doors to the nearby elevator were wide open.

The thirteen of us stood there for a second, before we started to pile into the elevator and go down to a room that at least one of us wouldn't come out of.

13 PLAYERS REMAIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see, I have removed the artwork. I came to the conclusion that I was focusing on it too much and it was taking my attention away from the actual story.
> 
> We'll see if I continue this. I'd like to, but we'll see what happens.


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